Come What May
by Copper's Mama
Summary: A Dean/Sam fic. No slash/wincest, w/e. Just brotherly angst. From the S. 1 ep "Asylum". Please read and review!


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_A Dean/Sam fic ... non wincest or slash or anything, just brotherly angst. _

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_Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Supernatural. _

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_A/N: So, I've been pretty much having a Supernatural marathon for the last week, with the exception of watching Glee on Wednesday. _

_Anywhoo, this is taken from the season 1 episode: "Asylum". Just my own little fic about what was going through Dean's mind while Sam was infected with Ellicott's rage. _

_This will be a little different for me, 'cause I usually only ever write romance fics. ... We'll see how it goes. _

_Hope you guys like it, I know I'll love writing it. _

_As always, please read and review, I live for feedback! _

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Sam's voice rang through his ears, but he reminded himself that it wasn't really Sam speaking, that Ellicott had done some creepy mojo on him.

"Why are we even here? Because you're following Dad's orders like a good little soldier? 'Cause you always do what he says without question?" the voice of his brother questions. "Are you _that_ desperate for his approval?"

Dean fought against the pain in his upper torso. "This isn't you talking, Sam."

"That's the difference between you and me," he stated. "I have a mind of my own. I'm not pathetic like you."

Dean was growing more and more annoyed at the situation. "So what are you gonna do, huh? You gonna kill me?" He figured it was his turn to get under Sam's skin.

His brother's rage-filled voice replied, "You know what? I am sick of doing what you tell me to do. We're no closer to finding Dad today than we were six months ago."

And suddenly the conversation was getting more and more familiar. Maybe it wasn't all Sam telling him these things, but there was no denying that Sam had these thoughts most of the time. He was desperate to find Dad ... even more than Dean because of what had happened to Jessica. And now it seemed as though he was blaming Dean for them not being able to find the old man.

"Well then, here. Let me make it easier for you." He fished the gun out of his pocket and held it out for Sam to take. His hand wanted to shake, but he remained as still as he could, glaring into his brother's cold eyes. "Go on, take it. Real bullets are gonna work a hell of a lot better than rock salt." He waited for his brother to take the gun, and for his part, the younger Winchester looked surprised at what Dean was telling him to do. "Take it!" Dean commanded.

Sam took the gun from Dean's hand and dropped his own shotgun on the floor. After a moment he pointed the gun at Dean, moving closer.

Dean sighed, his heart fluttering. "You hate me that much?" he asked, not sure if he even wanted an answer. He knew that he shouldn't take anything that Sam said right now for the truth, but a part of him knew that deep inside, Sam had some of these feelings, these thoughts. "You think you could kill your own brother?" Dean continued. "Then go ahead," he dared. "Pull the trigger."

There was a long pause, and for a moment he thought maybe he'd gotten through to him. Maybe he'd shocked the rage out of him.

"Do it!" Dean yelled, continuing with his plan.

Then Sam pulled the trigger. He actually wanted to shoot him. Nothing happened. Sam pulled the trigger again and again, but the gun didn't fire. It wouldn't.

While he was distracted by the misfire, Dean grabbed the gun and back-handed him across the face, knocking him to the ground. Rolling over and grunting at the pain in his chest, he slowly stands, looking at his brother.

"Man, I'm not gonna give you a loaded pistol," he informed him, giving his brother one last looking before knocking him out. It was for his own good. Dean sighed again. "Sorry, Sammy."

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He hadn't wanted to talk to his brother about what had happened in the nut-house, but it was all he could think about while they drove back to their motel. He loved his brother ... there was nothing he wouldn't do for him. He would kill for him, he would die for him. But the guy had issues, Dean knew. Whether it was because of their messed up childhood, or because of what had happened to his girlfriend ... he had a lot of stuff that he needed to work out.

They got back to the motel and by the time Dean got out of the shower, Sam was already asleep on his bed. He glanced at his unconscious brother, wondering what was in store for them.

He hoped they'd find their father soon ... if nothing else, for Sam's well-being. He still had nightmares almost every night, and now with the weird, ESP-thing he had going on, Dean didn't know what to do. He hoped their Dad would ... he usually had the answers. They just had to find him.

After a slight pause, Dean pulled the blanket over Sammy's sleeping body, stepping back before his younger brother could wake up and witness Dean tucking him in.

Changing into a fresh set of clothes, he lay back on his own bed, crossing his hands behind his head and sighing deeply.

_If that gun had been loaded ... Sam would have shot me._

He tried to push the thought out of his mind, reminding himself that they were brothers and nothing could come between that.

Letting his eyes drift close, he decided to push away his worries and let the new day bring what it may.

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_The end. _

_Just a short, little one-shot based off that episode. _

_I dunno ... what do you guys think? Good, bad? Pointless? _

_Don't be shy about leaving feedback, constructive criticism is always welcome. _

_Until next time ...! _


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